and unrest. Many a husband's soul has been wrecked by a vain, worldly, or heartless wife—many a wife's by a coarse, sensual, brutal husband. Marriage is a rock of danger as well as of safety.

What shall I say, then, in view of these considerations, but this, that the home is never truly home except as the marriage union is sanctified by God and the whole domestic life is ruled and blessed by the law of the spirit of Jesus Christ! This alone it is that surely exalts and redeems. I care not how bright and beautiful may seem the future that now opens itself to affianced hearts, nor how fine the mansion or elegant the appointments which they may call their own, nor how refined their tastes, how choice their associations, or how abundant their stores there is no immunity from peril, no realization of the highest bliss, unless the Lord of life and glory abide in the house, its ever welcome and cherished guest and friend. A shadow rests upon every family circle where his name is not known, where there is no open or secret voice of prayer, and where is not inculcated with sedulous care the profoundest reverence for God, for Christ, for Scripture; for the institutions and observances of our holy religion; and for the mighty, heavenly truths, principles, and realities that outlast the perishable and fleeting things of earth and time. This alone it is, I repeat, that truly exalts and redeems, purifying love and strengthening trust, eliminating every discordant element and perfecting every sacred tie, creating in each soul a deeper, tenderer interest for the lasting good of the other, lessening the crosses and glorifying the daily cares of life, giving a juster significance to the marriage union and a loftier elevation to its multiform experiences and allotments, and diffusing everywhere a gracious atmosphere of "sweetness and light."

Without question the wife is more apt than the husband to be interested in these great spiritual concerns and to feel how necessary is religion to the right order, the supreme beauty, and the real safety and welfare of the home; and I know how often her aspirations and desires are balked by the chilling indifference or the positive discouragement of a

worldly-minded husband. But it is his to learn that not to her alone, but to him also, comes the imperative call of the Christ that he should consecrate himself to the service of God. He may not, as many do, lay the flattering unction. to his soul that religion is something which it is very well for woman to concern herself about, but not for strong, active, busy men of the world. Ay, it is because he is plunged daily into that great world of stir, toil, care, and temptation that he needs all the more the safeguards and inspirations of the Christian faith, and all the influences and encouragements which a Christion home may give him. He, too, has a soul to save, and for him, too, Christ has died. Marriage has a mission to fulfill for his spiritual well-being, even more than for his bodily comfort, social advantage, and earthly prosperity. How to make it most subservient to his eternal blessedness may well be his study and care. Nay, how to make it subservient to the growth of husband and wife alike, in grace and in knowledge, is the one great, practical problem for both of them together to solve. Here, also, is the demand for mutual service. Neither soul lives for itself alone. Each is the keeper, in no small degree, of the other, and will be held largely responsible for its fate at last. They can, if they will, work to each other's moral undoing, and they can, if they choose, walk hand in hand in Christian companionship, and with mutual helpfulness rise together to heaven. "For how dost thou know, O wife," says Paul in his first letter to the Corinthians, "but that thou mayest save thy husband? or how dost thou know, O husband, but that thou mayest save thy wife?" Then, indeed, are woven bonds of endearment which time nor death can break. Memories are stored up for the future which it will be one of the joys of immortality to recall. Then it shall be well with the husband and well with the wife, forever.

Well, moreover, shall it be with the child. Growing up in the sunshine and peace of God's presence-living in the light of holy, parental counsel — defended, strengthened, and sanctified by the influence of a truly Christian home, he is better and still better prepared to encounter the dangers and

duties that await him and to gain the final victory. The storms may bend and break, but the root is there, firmly planted in the solid earth, and sooner or later it shall spring up again into vigorous and enduring forms of loveliness and beneficence. No good seed is lost in the wondrous economy of the divine Husbandman. Everything that is sown to his glory comes at last to flower and fruitage. The husband's care and the wife's devotion, a father's admonitions and a mother's prayers, every pious lesson, loving thought, watchful attention and blessed deed - all shall come up in God's good time and to the praise of His name. It is well with the child when thus in the early years he has lived in the home where Christ hath had his abode - but it is not so well for him if the home has witnessed a constant round of worldliness and frivolity, or the perpetual reign of querulousness. and anger, or the ceaseless sway of impurity, unbelief and sin. Weak and vain the armor with which he then goes forth to fight the battles of life, and terrible the responsibility of those who have not put on him the breastplate of faith and love, and for an helmet the hope of salvation.

Realize, I beseech you, how sacred and solemn a relation is this which binds together husband and wife. Enter it not thoughtlessly and frivolously, but with a due sense of its awful sanctity and of the extending and everlasting consequences which flow from it. Let husbands and wives, as they begin this new year of grace, bury in one common receptacle and forever the slights and resentments, the piques and the animosities, the mistrusts and alienations, the selfwill and pride of opinion, the wrongs and neglects, the unkind thoughts and cruel words, the sullen looks and the shameful deeds, that distress and divide though it be in ever so small a degree. Down with them all into the darkness and death which so well befit them. Give room to all the more celestial visitants-to Faith and Hope and Charity; to a tender sympathy, a helpful spirit, and a patient forbearance; to a pure loyalty, a self-sacrificing devotion, and a great, generous, forgiving, loving heart. Count it an inestimable privilege that you can be promoters of each other's joy. Build for

yourselves characters that shall withstand the shocks of time and shall grow richer and fairer as the generations roll. Put into them the oaken timber and the solid granite, and let the adornments thereof be beauty and grace. Let the retrospect of earth gaze back to the one cherished spot where life and love were not in vain, and where with clasped hands and united hearts you took sweet counsel together and laid in stores for eternity. Remember, and do not forget, that the hour hastens on which must sunder the visible bond that connects you, and when the silent lips and folded hands of your dead shall tell you that there is no more that you can do for them. Piously serve while you can and may, before the night comes and the unavailing tears are shed. Live, by Christ's help, as you will wish you had, when the silver cord is loosed and the golden bowl is broken. So live that when the parted circles shall meet again, you can all say with one accord, "It is well;" and there shall come stealing through the soft airs and holy light around you the welcome, respon-. sive voice of the Father, "It is well."

A SINGING SCHOOL FIFTY YEARS AGO.

BY W. E. A.

MR. RUSH's friends, and respectable strangers, are invited to look in upon him at his singing-school. A few preliminary remarks may be essential to the understanding of matters and manners in a past and unfamiliar age. In a seaport town of four thousand inhabitants, some fifty years ago, the annual or biennial singing school was absolutely essential to the maintenance of decent church music. Mr. Rush best knew the existence and pressure of this want. Having, for many years, figured as leader of the First Parish choir, he had not now to learn that musical bodies are liable to fluctu

ations, often sudden and severe, sure soon or late; and that upon himself it must depend to render them harmless. The material, raw and unkempt, and needing much pains to lick into shape, was abundant in the several grades of society which met at church on common ground. But, "They all, with one consent, began to make excuse," when expected services were as unpalatable as they were gratuitous — and to a parish well able to pay for them. Besides the feeling of inadequacy of attainment, a reluctance to commit themselves in a tremulous duet or solo in public, with every eye upon them, while choking with embarrassment; or, on the other hand, a jealous looking after rights and privileges, seats of distinction and comparative eligibility, old hates and miffs, or too great a desire to put others forward, these, and other matters of great consequence, to the green and uninitiated, and to nobody else, tied his hands and sent him an importunate beggar for favors where he should have had rights. Singers of any and every quality were of great consequence to him, because volumes of sound must depend upon the number of voices, - the bass-viol and a few light wind-instruments serving to guide and tune their respective classes of singers, rather than lend independent aid to musical effect. At present the matter is reversed. The great organ is now the choir. Wooden thunders roll heavily through the house, jarring no small portion of the audience to vertigo and nausea, leaden voices warble out of tune, and scores of shrill fifes and penny-whistles complete the torture so auspiciously begun on lower keys; when ambitious performers, of little science and less taste (as often happens), are allowed to preside at the instrument, because they are poor and cheap, too truly! A quartette of ladies and gentlemen are supposed to accompany the organ to give utterance and expression to sacred poetry. But this must generally be taken on trust. Words are lost in volumes of sound, and expression in the meretricious arts and graces, borrowed from a fashionable, but wholly different style of music. In the days of which we speak, organs were very uncommon in the smaller towns. The choral organ must therefore be built and tuned every